


Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me

by wolfwithwoodenteeth



Series: Adonis [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Adonis Myth, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, Daenerys is a jealous and vengeful Aphrodite, F/M, Littlefinger as Hades, Sansa as Queen of the Underworld, Sansa has a mirror not unlike Galadriel's, Ygritte was a nymph, and Jon has no idea, but Sansa doesn't remember, but it's still bad, so forgive me pretty please, sooo bad, technically it's not incest
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfwithwoodenteeth/pseuds/wolfwithwoodenteeth
Summary: Nineteen years after 'Light of My Life', Jon Snow has grown into a lonely young man. As summer is coming to an end, he returns to the place where he buried his first love and runs into a stranger.





	Time Has Brought Your Heart To Me

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Christina Perri's 'A Thousand Years'
> 
> Continuation of the story 'Light of My Life', which was originally titled Adonis. I've decided to turn it into a series, this is part 2 and there will be 3 parts in total.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something inside him jumps at the sight of her, he's not sure whether it's his heart or his stomach, and after that initial unsettling feeling, a warmth he's forgotten spreads through his body. 
> 
> He only realizes he's been holding his breath when it bursts from his throat in an uncomfortable gasp. He can't tear his eyes away from this beautiful creature in front of him and he feels something inside him trying to fight its way to the surface at the sound of her sweet voice.

Jon isn't sure why he's come here again. The smells of the woods, the rugged terrain, the mountains all remind him of a life he can never return to.  _You knew the rules,_ Arya's voice echoes in his head.

He did and he chose to break them anyway. He was only a foolish greenboy when Ygritte joined him under his furs that night and he couldn't refuse her. He hauls the nymph's quiver over his shoulder and follows the winding path further up the mountain. 

It's been years and he doesn't truly miss her anymore, but remembering that she could still be alive if she'd made other choices still has the power to turn his mood wistful.

He picks up his pace, aware now where his feet have been leading him, knowing he won't be able to leave this place until he's seen the spot where he burned her body after carrying it up the mountain.

Climbing further up where the path ends, he vaguely wonders how he even managed last time and when he's finally reached his destination, he sees there's nothing left there for him. The snows that haven't returned yet in these last days of summer and the winds Ygritte used to love so much have swept away every last trace of her.

After all these years there's not even the smallest remnant of the pyre he built on this narrow plateau. He breathes in the cold air, letting it fill his lungs and soothe his heart.  _Winter is coming._

This is where she belonged, he tells himself. He remembers begging her to go south and build a new life together.  _"I can't,"_ she insisted, the last words she ever spoke to him.  _"I'm a daughter of Boreas and the mountain is my home. It's in my blood, I can't leave that behind."_

It seemed such a strange sentiment to him, he who's never learned much of his own blood. He's the bastard, half-mortal, half-god. He doesn't belong anywhere, the only home he's ever known the memory of a sweet voice and a winter rose. 

 _You know nothing, Jon Snow,_ she used to tell him and the truth of her jape still haunts him. Ygritte would have called her end an inevitable fate, but he can't help but be reminded how cruel the gods must be whenever he thinks of it. 

After one last look around he starts descending the mountain again. Going down lifts some of the heaviness from his heart, the way it always does.

He's deep into the woods on the lower and less steep slopes when he hears a song he's never heard before, except maybe once in a dream. The voice is high and clear, like the steady flow of a brook running over smooth pebbles, and sweet as honey, filling his core and chasing every last trace of the cold from his body.

His legs move of their own accord, carrying him closer to the source of the sound. He's already at the edge of the tree line, mere feet away, when he sees her.

Layers of wispy, cerulean silk draped around a tall, willowy frame, arms as sleek as marble and hair alive with fire, dancing around her shoulders as she moves about the clearing. He catches a glimpse of her face, flushed cheeks, plump lips and eyes that match the colour of her clothes and the sky above. 

Something inside him jumps at the sight of her, he's not sure whether it's his heart or his stomach, and after that initial unsettling feeling, a warmth he's forgotten spreads through his body.

He only realizes he's been holding his breath when it bursts from his throat in an uncomfortable gasp. He can't tear his eyes away from this beautiful creature in front of him and he feels something inside him trying to fight its way to the surface at the sound of her sweet voice. 

Suddenly she freezes and for a moment he fears she's caught him staring at her, but she's not even looking in his direction. She starts to recoil, but then her spine straightens and she squares her shoulders.

His eyes follow the path of hers and find a majestic golden lion stalking toward her. Its green eyes are gleaming and Jon knows that look. The beast is here to kill. 

He lunges forward, emerging from his hiding place and raises his hands, shouting at the lion. He doesn't back down. He's seen this before, animals fear men, even the large and powerful ones. The lion lazily twists its head, eyes locking with Jon's, before turning back to its prey.

He takes another step, puffing up his chest and waving his arms, still makig as much noise as possible. From the corner of his eye he can see the beautiful redhead looking at him, head slightly tilted. "Don't move!" he warns her. If she runs, she's dead.

Jon can see the reluctance and the anger when the beast faces him again and for the first time he thinks this might have been a mistake. The lion is not deterred by his actions, only annoyed.

There is no way back. His heart is hammering in his chest, the sound of its beating drowning out any attempt at logical thinking, so he just acts on instinct when he hollers even louder.

The beast bares its fangs and roars back without hesitation. It's not a warning, it's ready to charge.

Jon reaches behind his back for an arrow, his bow ready in his hand. He doesn't allow himself any time to aim properly and he misses the first shot. His second arrow hits the lion in the nose, but it's too low and shallow to do any real damage.

The beast is truly enraged now and Jon drops his bow and quiver to draw his sword, swinging it in the hope it's not too late to scare the beast off.

It leaps forward and so does Jon, his blade grazing the lion's side as he ducks and rolls away.  _I need a spear,_ he thinks randomly, but it's no use, he doesn't have one.

The lion has recovered from its attack and it's preparing for another one. Jon moves first, but the lion's paw hits his arm and his sword spins away. A sharp pain stings him and he's facing the monster again, small and vulnerable, arm bleeding.

A pair of crows appear above the beast's head as it closes in on him. The birds start picking at the lion's eyes and this time it roars in pain and fear, and to Jon's great relief, it flees. 

His knees buckle and the woman he was trying to defend is by his side in an instant, kneeling in front of him. "You saved me," she breathes, her eyes taking in his face, giving nothing away.

His face pulls into a frown. "I did not. I am sorry, my lady."

She doesn't argue, just stares at him. "You were so brave. Weren't you afraid?"

"Very much so," he confesses, "but that's the only time a man can be brave." He doesn't feel brave at all, just foolish and lucky.

She meets his eyes and offers him a measured smile. "What is your name?"

"I'm Jon Snow."  He groans as he clutches his arm to stop the bleeding.

"You're hurt, Jon Snow," she gasps.

He tries to object, but she's already pulling cloth and a small vial from the folds of her himation. "Let me see."

He studies her face as she cleans and dresses his wound. There's an elegance to the way she moves, a proud and quiet strength that's almost regal.

"What's your name?"

She looks up at him through thick long lashes. "Alayne."

"That's a pretty name," he blurts out. 

She giggles at his words, a pretty blush appearing on her pale high cheekbones as her eyes light up and for a moment, she looks incredibly young and innocent.

A strand of her hair falls over her face and without thinking, Jon reaches out to tuck it behind her ear. It's soft beneath his fingers and her skin is even softer where his thumb accidentally brushes her cheek, but it sends the oddest jolt through his body.

She looks up and their eyes meet. There's confusion in hers as she stares at him and again he finds himself unable to look away. 

"There, Jon Snow," she finally breaks the silence, tying a piece of cloth around the dressing she's applied to his arm.

His voice sounds rough when he answers. "Thank you, Alayne."

"You're welcome."


End file.
